


Naughty or Nice

by foldingpaperfigures



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blow Job, M/M, mormor, ok, this is christmas crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 07:10:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foldingpaperfigures/pseuds/foldingpaperfigures
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim thinks a bit of Christmas role play is exactly the spice they need in their sex life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naughty or Nice

**Author's Note:**

> please don't skin me, this is all in fun and I know that it's not good quality pron, nor is it good quality character writing but hey-o, who doesn't want Christmas blow jobs? (Not Sebastian Moran, that's who)

"This is, without a doubt, the most perverted thing you've ever made me do."

"You fucked me with a gun once.”

"This is different perverted."

Sebastian scowled across at Jim. Well, it would have been a scowl, had the lower half of the blond sniper's face not been covered in a thick, white, curly synthetic beard that itched. Jim, for his part, prodded Sebastian with the end of a novelty sized candy cane.

"Go on. Say the lines."

Sebastian's face darkened under the beard. This was three new ways of fucked up. Still, he cleared his throat and glanced down at the piece of paper that the Irishman had taken the trouble to type up.

"Come here, little boy." Sebastian's voice was almost mechanical as he read off the paper. With a bright grin, Jim sauntered over to where Sebastian sat, plonking, in all his high waisted shorts and long socked glory, down onto the blond's lap.

"Yes, Santa?" Jim wriggled in Sebastian's lap, blinking innocently up into the messy abyss of white synthetic hair.

"Christ's sake, Jim, this is fuc-"

"Santa doesn't swear."

Sebastian shot the fully grown man on his lap the most withering glare he could muster.

It wasn't that Jim wasn't sexy - because Lord knew that Sebastian could find the odd little Irishman sexy at even the worst of times - but the whole scenario was strange. Firstly, it didn't appeal to Sebastian's sense of logic. He'd watched porn for the majority of his life thus far, and even the piss weak plots of television repairmen and big-titted blondes seemed BAFTA-worthy in comparison to Jim's attempt at scripting his own Christmas adult scene.

"Next line."  Jim prodded him with the giant candy cane again. (What even was Jim? An elf? A fucking leprechaun-man hybrid that never outgrew Santa? Questions continued to plague the jolly Christmas icon formerly known as Sebastian Moran.)

"Yeah, alright, alright." Sebastian frowned and cleared his throat, looking to the piece of paper again.

"So tell me, have you been.. Naughty or nice? You know that Santa only likes good boys."

Jim was a better actor than Sebastian had given him credit for, procuring up a sweet blush over his face.

"I-I don't know, sir." Jim bit down on his lip and, frankly, Sebastian thought it was impossible that a grown man could retain any sort of sex appeal in that outrageous get up, but here was Jim, proving him wrong. Sebastian cursed himself internally as his eyes followed the soft indent of teeth against supple lip.

"Line." Jim stabbed him in the thigh with the end of the candy cane.

"Argh, you little shi-"

"Language, Santa."

Sebastian growled and pinched the bare skin of Jim's thigh, visible due to the obscenely short length of his shorts. Jim yelped.

"You're not supposed to hurt me, you prick."

Sebastian smiled smugly, not even minding how the curls itched against his top lip.

"You're on my naughty list, though."

"That's not in the script." Jim folded his arms, his jaw set. "Go on. You have to say the next line. Or I won't pay you for the next three jobs."

Sebastian sighed. "Well, it says here on my list that you've been a naughty boy -," Sebastian broke away and looked pointedly at Jim. "I basically said that already - yeah, alright, don't stab me again. Alright. Right. Ah, you've been a naughty boy, yada, yada. Ah, right. If you don't want a lump of coal for Christmas, you need to prove to me what a good boy you can be."

Ah, Sebastian liked the sound of that line. He arched an eyebrow at Jim. Jim grinned.

"Oh?" He purred. His weight, minimal at best, began to shift across Sebastian's lap, and the blond Santa sat up a little straighter. "And how do I prove that, hm?" Jim's accent was deepening, silkier and smoother than his normal cocky lilt.

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply, a reply involving certain parts of Jim's anatomy becoming better acquainted with certain parts of Sebastian's, but before the first word was even out of his mouth, the dark haired man speared him in the foot with the candy cane.

"Read your lines, Sebastian."

"I'll read _your_ lines." Sebastian muttered under his breath darkly, although he did lift the piece of paper up, scanning for his next cue. He cleared his throat, grimacing at the cheesy words.

"I always like it when my best elves - so you're an elf, are you? Sorry, sorry. Right. I always like it when my best elves show me how eager they are for Santa's sack." Sebastian frowned, reading over the line in his head again before he let out a noise halfway between disgust and incredulity. "Did you really write that? Santa's _sack?_ My _balls?_ That was the best you had?"

Jim waved the candy cane threateningly, far too close to Santa's sack for Sebastian's liking. The Irishman was now half draped over Sebastian's thighs, his shorts riding up far too high to be comfortable or decent and highlighting every contour of Jim's arse. Not that Sebastian was complaining. There were many things to complain about in this situation - why he couldn't just get a festive blow job without a script, being one of them - but the accentuated definition of Jim's rear end was not one of them.

"Is that so?" Jim queried, cocking his head and pursing his lips in a practiced pout. "Do you think," The Irishman shifted his body again, swinging his legs off of Sebastian so that both feet were on the floor and he could twist his body, kneeling in front of the bearded blond. "Do you think that I could prove how eager I am for a lick of Santa's candy cane?"

And, really, that awful, awful pun should've caused any erection Sebastian had, or would ever have, to dissipate for all eternity, cringing and refusing to work anymore. But it didn't, and Sebastian's brain focused solely on how, at this height, Jim's eyes looked bigger, darker and glittered even more dangerously than normal.

Sebastian nodded, wriggling in his seat to bring his hands to the obnoxiously large belt buckle that held the bright red trousers up. "I think you could."

Jim narrowed his eyes up at Sebastian. "That wasn't in the script."

"Fuck the script."

"But, Sebas-"

"I'll ad lib. It's what actors do." Sebastian nodded wisely, undoing his belt. "All the best ones, trust me." Jim looked ready to argue, his mouth opening with a no doubt snaky remark on the tip of his tongue. In the same moment that Sebastian tugged his trousers down, already half hard, he cleared his throat, letting his voice become a low rumble.

"Now, now. Pouting just won't do. Ho, ho -" _God,_ he wanted to cringe, "Santa needs a good 'ho."

Jim brightened visibly. Sebastian wasn't _too_ bad at the ad libbing lark, he filed away. Keep that 'ho line for next year.

The Irishman nuzzled into Sebastian's upper thigh, his hands coming up to help bring the trousers - two sizes too big - down and over Sebastian's knees, until they sat in a puddle on the floor. The novelty candy cane lay forgotten, much to Sebastian's relief.

Now that Jim was dedicated to the cause, and not so focused on the terrible lines that Sebastian was sure were aplenty in the amateur script, Sebastian could feel his lower half becoming actively more excited as Jim's nose nudged its way higher. With an encouraging whimper as the dark haired man's lips connected with his bare upper thigh, Sebastian shook his face out of the itchy half face beard, letting the elastic snag around his neck.

"Is this what you want?" Jim's voice was breathy - an act, yes, but hot as all hell, if Sebastian was going to be honest. Sebastian nodded quickly.

"Very good. Very good, indeed. Up a little higher, now, though." He tried to keep his voice as commanding as possible. (Was Santa Claus commanding? Sebastian didn't know, but it seemed to work on the Irish elf on his knees in front of him.)

Jim obliged, working his lips up, forming a trail of kisses that danced over the sensitive skin that led to the elastic of the leg hole of Sebastian's pants. As Jim's warm, slightly damp mouth travelled over - far too softly, really - Sebastian's pants, the blond, indecent Santa Claus sucked in a breath.

"C'mon, Jim. Don't be a tease." He murmured. One hand came to the back of Jim's head, buried in the hair softly. His hips rocked up, canting themselves towards the heat and promise of Jim's mouth as his cock twitched inside his pants. God dammit.

"Is teasing naughty?" Jim pulled his head back, the slight warmth gone as he blinked up at Sebastian, his eyebrow raised. Sebastian nodded. The hand in Jim's hair got a little firmer.

"Very naughty. Good boys -'

'Elves.'

'Elves, right. Good elves use their pretty little mouths properly. I'm sure you know how to do that."

Too right, Jim knew how to use his mouth. That knowledge was what made Sebastian's cock twitch, hardening beyond belief from just a few breaths and suggestions.

With a tinkling laugh, Jim straightened his head and brought his slender hands to the waistband of Sebastian's pants, tugging them down and allowing his cock to spring free. The blond let out a breath of relief through his nostrils.

"Oh, _my._ I thought you said I'd been _naughty._ Whatever did I do to deserve such a good present?" Jim's hands wrapped around the base of Sebastian's cock, jerking upwards slowly, experimentally. He gave his Santa a wink, before lowering his mouth and letting the sharp tongue flick out over the head, a bolt of warmth and contact shooting through Sebastian.

"C'mon." Sebastian hissed. "C'mon. Please." He was in no mood for Jim to go slowly or to play along with the stupid game. Jim rolled his eyes, but didn't protest. Instead, he opened his mouth, letting Sebastian's cock slide snugly in. It was hard to tell the moan (Jim) from the groan (Sebastian) as the Irishman wrapped his lips around more than half of Sebastian's length. Christ. Sebastian resisted the urge to thrust himself upwards, trying to appreciate the suctioned wet heat for what it was - glorious. Angelic, almost. Inside his mouth, Jim's tongue was laving across as much of Sebastian's cock as he could, flattening against the vein and lapping at the head. To be fair, it was quite the gift.

The resolve to hold back lasted only a minute or so, before Sebastian arched himself off the chair slightly. Unable to resist pushing himself further into Jim's willing mouth, Sebastian let out a groan as he felt his cock slide deeper, deeper.

"God. So fucking good." He grunted out. His hand in Jim's hair now acted encouragingly, pushing and pulling as the two men set up an unspoken rhythm. The sight was wonderful. Jim was eager, that was for sure, and his eagerness coincided with moans of lust, resulting in Sebastian's cock slipping out and a delightful pop being elicited. It was, minus the dialogue, better than porn. Nothing, Sebastian was sure, could compare to Jim's pink lips rounded as his cock thrust between them.

Nothing except _that._

Sebastian bucked upwards as Jim took him further, the head of his cock hitting the back of Jim's throat. He almost let out an undignified cry, and the pace of the rhythm quickened. The room was filled with the sounds of Sebastian's groans and quiet curses and the slick sound of Jim's hollowed cheek sucking, mingled with muffled moans.

It was only a few minutes - and inevitably so, as it always was with Jim - before Sebastian felt the heat rising in his lower stomach. The aching need that made his stomach clench and his curses to come out louder. Jim could tell - Jim could _always_ tell, the bloody sod - and he sped his attentions up, bobbing his head quickly as he brought Sebastian closer, closer, clos-

"Ah, fuck. Fuck. Jim, fuck. I'm going to - fu-"

Jim pulled off with a breathless gasp, jerking Sebastian firmly as the blond bucked up in his chair. One, two, three strokes and it was all over for Sebastian. With a shout, he came, spilling over Jim's stroking hand and his own thighs. Jim grinned, taking his hand back and observing the white liquid for a moment before wiping it on the red trousers still at Sebastian's feet.

Sebastian was panting. Hard.

"Good?" Jim queried, adjusting his own trousers. Sebastian could only nod, grimacing. There was a curly white hair in his mouth. Wig pubes.

"I only hope it's not true, for your sake." Jim continued, glancing back up at Sebastian with the hint of a smirk on his face. Sebastian frowned, picking the hair from his teeth.

"Hope what's not true?"

"That Santa only comes once a year."


End file.
